Genesis 2:15-20a

The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner.” So out of the ground the Lord God formed every animal of the field and every bird of the air and brought them to the man to see what he would call them, and whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name. The man gave names to all cattle and to the birds of the air and to every animal of the field.

When I was a kid, maybe six or seven, my aunt and uncle got a golden retriever puppy. We did not have a dog at the time, so I was so excited to go over and play with it. When we got there, my dad asked, “what’s his name?”. Not yet having one, we made suggestions throughout the night, but nothing stuck.

On the way out of the door, my dad turned toward the puppy and said “see you later champ!” and walked to the car. And don’t you know they named that dog champ! We were shocked.

My dad had inadvertently named their dog.

It wasn’t until many years later, when Champ crossed over the rainbow bridge, that I reminisced with my dad about Champ and how he accidentally named him. To my utter shock, my dad said, “that was no accident… I called him champ before we left because I knew they would name him that. I’ve done it twice in my life and both times it worked like a charm!”

It wasn’t inadvertent at all. My dad, cunningly, slyly, named not one but two dogs that didn’t belong to him! I wasn’t sure if I was impressed or horrified.

After all, naming involves both power and intimacy. As one theologian put it, “naming reflects values and character. Naming reflects hope for who you want a child or an animal to be.” At its best, to name is to honor, to show respect, and to be in relationship with that being, human or animal. At its worst, naming inflicts a lot of harm and damage. In Genesis, I think we see the former.

In the first creation story, we get the famous line about humans having dominion over all the animals. Over the centuries, we have taken dominion to mean do as we wish, hurting that which God created and called good. But in the second creation story, we get an entirely different picture of the human-animal relationship.

Instead of speaking animals and humans into existence, God uses God’s hands to create life, pulling dirt together, giving it CPR, and up from the humus comes the human. God saw that the human shouldn’t be alone. So God did an experiment, and formed every creature, every animal, every bird, out of the ground, just like we were. So it shouldn’t shock us when we continue discovering all the ways we are similar to our animal friends.

And after comes what must be one of the most joyous, yet bizarre scenes in all the Bible.

God brought each one of the animals to Adam so that he could name it! Picture it, with a parade of animals lined up, God handed Adam a large feathered bird and said, what will name it. Adam looks at it and declares, Chicken! God, filled with delight, hands Adam another creature, “And what about this funny looking mammal”, “Aardvark!” How joyous. And whatever Adam named the creature, that was its name!

One of the very first things God gives humans the power to do is name. The question then is how does God intend for us to use that power. Is it to dominate, divide, and do what we please? Or is it to be in relationship with, to care for, to respect, to know the other creatures who walk the earth.

In the garden of Eden, I see Adam’s naming as an act of love and joy that builds relationships. However, we aren’t in the garden anymore. And nowadays we face a near irresistible urge to name each other in other ways, ways that divide and denigrate: conservative, progressive, traditional, modern, evangelical, liberal, young, old, Buckeye… We give huge groups of people one name just so we can fix them into the same box and judge them all the same way.

It is our task now to reclaim the power of naming, not to divide but, as Adam did and build relationships. This is not easy! If you have ever been in a relationship of any kind, name calling comes pretty naturally and quick!

So when you are struggling with that temptation to use other names, like we are so quick to do in our current culture, Think of the names God not only gives you, but also gives to everyone else: child, beloved, forgiven, friend. Even the people you can’t stand, God calls you both by the same names. And those aren’t just titles, but promises of how God sees us and how we can see each other, too.

When you come forward with your animal friend for a blessing, you will tell us their name. By your naming them, caring for them, respecting them, being in relationship with them, you are fulfilling the same call and command that God first gave to Adam back in the garden. So tell us their name in all it’s glory: rover, fluffy, stevie, sadie, tank, rex, sparkles, or even Champ.

We will bless them and the relationship you share.

But even more so, be blessed by the relationship God has with you. For not only does God call you by name, but all throughout Scripture God names us, names you: light of the world, salt of the earth, royalty, friend, child, co-heir with Christ, and most importantly, beloved. Amen.

Matthew 21:1-11

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, “The Lord needs them.” And he will send them immediately.’ This took place to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,

‘Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’

The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,

‘Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!’

When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’ The crowds were saying, ‘This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.’

What’s your favorite parade? From the Macy’s Day Parade to Mardi Gras, St. Patrick’s Day, and countless Independence Day celebrations, we Americans love parades. Some of my favorite childhood memories are from attending or marching in one. Growing up in Anderson, we had the Midnight Parade. It was on the night of July 3rd, but it started at midnight, claiming to be the first July 4th parade in all the land.

I loved watching the civic groups march along the route, many I would have never known existed had it not been for the parade. I remember the joy of little kids getting so excited about terrible candy thrown at their feet. Who knew Tootsie Rolls and Airheads could make someone so happy?

Most special of all was when we surprised my mom with tickets to the Rose Parade in Pasadena. Every New Year’s Day it was on in our house growing up. As we watched, she always said, “Can’t you just smell it? I bet the smell is amazing.” And the parade did not disappoint. The floats were extraordinary, the bands terrific, and the smell indeed was amazing.

Every parade tells a story — a story of identity, values, and heritage. Mardi Gras tells a story of joy, indulgence, and fun. Pride tells a story of celebration, love, and identity. The Rose Parade tells a story of creation and beauty.

And what makes a parade good is that it draws you in. You don’t want to just watch it. You want to be part of it, not just a spectator. The people of Jesus’ time were no strangers to parades. Because if one ancient people can be credited with the culture of parades, it’s the Romans. They were known for their grand displays of power.

One example was called the Adventus. That’s when a Roman governor or emperor entered a city under Roman control. First came the golden eagle — the symbol of Rome. Then banners and battle flags with Roman gods on them. Then the trumpeters announcing their arrival. Then the display of power: cavalry and foot soldiers dressed in full armor. And then finally came the governor or emperor himself, riding a war horse or chariot. And behind him, chained prisoners — living proof of Rome’s power.

The Adventus parade told a story that was very clear: Rome is in charge. Rome has power. Rome wins. The Jews of Judea, including Jesus, were familiar with Adventus, because that’s how Pontius Pilate would have entered Jerusalem for Passover. Pilate didn’t actually live in Jerusalem. He lived in a Roman city near the coast. But every year, during Passover, he would come to Jerusalem.

Because Passover made Roman officials nervous. It was a celebration of liberation from oppression under Pharaoh. And Pilate knew people might take that opportunity to protest their oppression under Caesar. So to remind everyone who was in charge, who had the power, Pilate would hold an Adventus. Coming from Caesarea, this huge procession would have entered Jerusalem from the west, quelling even the idea of an uprising.

But there was another parade into Jerusalem, this one coming from the East. Jesus and his disciples were in Bethphage when he made an unusual request: Go into the next little town and bring me a donkey and her colt. Matthew even tells us Jesus somehow sits on both of them, which is a little odd and maybe even a little funny to picture. But that’s not really the point.

Matthew tells us this happened to fulfill the words of the prophet Zechariah: “Look, your king is coming to you, humble and riding on a donkey.” Jesus isn’t just finding a ride into town. He is making a statement. He is telling the people exactly who he is. He is the one they have been waiting for.

And thus begins the parade. With no flags or banners to wave, they take off their cloaks and line the street with them. There are no drums, just the sound of branches snapping off trees and being spread along the road. And the only music is the crowd shouting, “Save us, Son of David! Save us!” That’s what Hosanna means: save us, please.

This was a crowd of poor peasants, hurting under the occupation of Rome. And finally here comes their hope — the one they call Son of the king, the rightful heir to the throne; coming to overthrow Rome and restore the kingdom of David, just like his ancestor talked about, like his own mother sang about.

Now that’s a story. That’s a parade that draws you in, one you want to be a part of, not just a spectator. I guess that’s why we reenact this parade with palms of our own every year. We find ourselves in that crowd. We may not be poor peasants under Roman occupation, but we still know things are not as they should be. We need a change. We too want to crown Jesus. We too shout Hosanna — save us, O God.

Save us from war and division.
Save us from hatred and injustice.
Save us from everything that keeps this world from being what you created it to be.

I wonder when the crowd realized that their parade was not what they thought it was. When did it register that what they wanted Jesus to do and what Jesus was about to do were two very different things? At some point in the week ahead, the crowd is going to realize that their hope isn’t going to play out like they thought it would.

I imagine at some point they wandered over to the west side of town. Maybe they saw the Adventus, Pilate with all his power entering the city. Or maybe they just heard about it — the horses, the soldiers, the brute force. That parade lured them in. It told them a story, veiled in threats, about how the world works: a world governed by strength and power.

Pretty soon after that parade of branches and cloaks, the crowd remembered Jesus on a donkey and compared that to Pilate’s parade, Rome’s parade, and realized he didn’t stand a chance.

They weren’t in a parade on the east side of Jerusalem that day. They were in a funeral procession, following the hearse the whole time.

So they switch sides. And in just a few short days they will go from “Save us!” to “Kill him,” from hail him to nail him.

We are still in that same crowd. It’s tempting to think we would have stayed by Jesus’ side, that we would have understood, that we would have been different. But we are the same crowd. We want a savior who fixes things, who wins, who makes life easier, who proves we are right and our side is right. We want a powerful king, not a crucified rebel. We want victory, not sacrifice. We want resurrection, but we would really prefer to skip Good Friday.

And when Jesus doesn’t do what we want, we start looking for another parade to join. But Jesus never wanted to be king, at least not the way the world understands kings. His goal was never to display power, but to redefine it; passing on the crown so that he could pick up a cross instead.

So this Holy Week, stay in the crowd. You’ve already started in the parade. You’re already a participant in this story. So go a bit deeper. Gather with Jesus and the disciples around the table as we remember the Last Supper and celebrate First Communion with some young partners in mission.

Walk all the way to Golgotha on Good Friday. Hear the chants of “Crucify him.” See how the same people who shouted Hosanna put Jesus on a cross.
But the parade doesn’t stop there. If we follow Jesus all the way, we will find ourselves at an empty tomb. And we will realize the parade wasn’t just a funeral procession, but an inauguration, where Jesus is crowned not as a king, but as the savior; defeating sin and death not by power and force, but by obedience, humility, and above all, grace… Which he hands out like candy, freely to anyone who wants to grab it.

That’s my favorite parade. Not one of power. But one of grace.

Amen.

Power to Name

Parade of Grace